


Nice Rebuttal

by ifishouldvanish



Series: So A Lawyer Walks Into A Bar... [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: D/s themes, Dirty Talk, F/M, Oral Sex, Scratching, Spanking, some fluff thrown in for good measure, sue me, these are all titled after bad lawyer jokes and legal puns, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 17:04:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11040504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifishouldvanish/pseuds/ifishouldvanish
Summary: A follow-up to my Rumbelle Order In the Court fic,So A Lawyer Walks Into A Bar...After confessing their feelings for each other, Gold and Lacey head home for another round.





	Nice Rebuttal

**Author's Note:**

> _And because apparently art history references are becoming a thing of mine..._
> 
>  
> 
> L.H.O.O.Q. - Dadaist Marcel Duchamp produced a work in 1919 titled L.H.O.O.Q., for which he drew a mustache and beard on a copy of the Mona Lisa. The acronym is pronounced as the French “Elle a chaud au cul,” a vulgar expression that translates to “she is hot in the ass,” or, “she is sexually restless.” ([x](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/L.H.O.O.Q.))

It takes longer than it should for Gold and Lacey to leave the law office. After returning from his trip to the restroom, Gold can’t find her anywhere. He eventually catches her in Mal’s office, rearranging the desk and turning all of the picture frames of Lily and Regina face down.

“And people think _I’m_ the miscreant.” He says, announcing himself from the doorway. Lacey pretends not to hear, continuing on with her little prank as he approaches the desk. “Let’s not tamper with these.” He says, carefully returning the frames to their upright positions.

Lacey glares up at him and rolls her eyes. “You’re no fun.”

Gold reels back and scoffs. “You know damned well that I’m _plenty_ of fun, Miss French. Go ahead. Trash the place. But _Lily—_ ” he explains, righting another photo of Mal’s daughter, “is off limits.”

Lacey nibbles her lip for a moment and starts putting the frames face-up again, this time turning them sideways. “Compromise?”

Gold studies the frames with a put-on scowl. Lacey's always had such a playful knack for mischief, and he never could help being drawn to her boundless sense of humor. “Hm.” He shrugs. “I suppose.”

“What about...” she plucks a black dry erase marker from the desk caddy and pops the cap off. With a contemplative hum, she picks up a frame housing a photo from Mal’s wedding day. Curious, Gold leans in and watches as she draws a mustache on the glass over Regina’s face. She adds a pointed little beard and holds her work up for him to see. “That?”

 _“L.H.O.O.Q.?”_ Gold huffs out laugh and nods. “She’ll love it, sweetheart.”

Lacey flashes him a satisfied grin and sets the frame down. “Well then, I uh, guess my work here is done.” She says with a wink, giving the desk a finishing pat.

They return to his office to gather their things, getting a little distracted in the process. When Lacey holds something of his hostage and demands a kiss in exchange for its release, Gold can't help paying the price tenfold. But soon enough they begin making their way down the stairs, Lacey dashing ahead of him. He watches with amusement as she takes a seat at Margaret’s desk. She drums her fingers on the protective panel of tempered glass and pouts, considering the best course of action.

“Hm... And what chaos awaits our dear friend Mrs Nolan?” He asks as he reaches the bottom step.

Lacey takes a post-it note and scribbles something down, covering it with her free hand so he can't see. She sticks it on the computer monitor and invites him over, and Gold can’t help his surprise when he gets close enough to read it— It’s an apology, albeit a brief one.

“I think she’ll appreciate that.” He tells her with a little smile, rubbing a hand over her back.

“Eh. It’s just to distract her from _this,”_ she snorts, picking up the mouse and dropping it in the empty wastebin.

Gold clicks his tongue. “So _bad._ What am I going to do with you, hm?”

Lacey’s face lights up, her blue eyes wide as saucers. _“Dude._ We could totally—”

He holds up a finger, cutting her off. “Oh, no.”

“You didn't let me finish!”

“I don't need to let you finish to know what's going on in that naughty little head of yours.” He says.

“Oh, come on!” She begs, leaning over the desk and wiggling her arse. “It’ll be fun!”

He takes in the sight of her for a moment, considering her offer. Something in him is tempted by the prospect of fucking Lacey right there in the lobby, where anyone could see them through the windows should they chance to walk by— not a likely outcome at this hour, but the thrill is there nonetheless.

“Just imagine her giving you a lecture about being inappropriate on Monday, totally oblivious to the fact that we did it right on her desk!” She says, wiggling her brows. “Or! We could get a good smudge of my tits on the glass,” she snorts.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head, chuckling despite himself. For heaven’s sake, it’s already past eleven and he just wants to make love to her in his own bed. “...Raincheck?”

Lacey gives him a devilish grin. “Can I get that on paper?”

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards into a crooked little smirk. “...I’ll have my paralegal draft something as soon as she comes in next week."

“Ooh! Nice one!” She laughs.

Gold takes her hand and bows down to press a kiss to her knuckle. “Now, come on.” He says, nodding toward the door. “Let's go home, sweetheart.”

 

 *****

 

Lacey's Firebird roars ahead of him as soon as they pull out of the office parking lot _._ Gold watches the oblong tail lights shrink in the distance with a smile. _That’s his Lacey._ Always so eager, so enthusiastic, so full of life. _Gods,_ he loves her. And to think— she loves him too.

He feels like such a fool for being so afraid to tell her. It's just that once he realized the extent of his feelings for her, the thought of sleeping with her again— believing those feelings weren't reciprocated— was making him feel sick. It was easier to just occupy himself with his work. But of course she wouldn't let him get away with that. Not for long. She had to come barging into his office after hours to give him a piece of her mind, and well— his Lacey doesn’t get _half_ as worked up about _anything_ unless she truly cares. He feels a warmth in his chest at the realization.

_She cares about him._

The Firebird is already sitting in his driveway by the time he makes it to the house, and that warmth rises in his chest again. She usually parks it along the curb, further up the street. The light in the downstairs window goes out as he steps out of the car, and when he enters the stately Victorian he finds the house eerily quiet.

He sets his keys down on the entry table and peers down the hall. “Lacey?”

The floorboards creak and she peeks her head out from the landing upstairs. “Oh. I was uh, starting to worry you got lost.” She teases, the corner of her mouth curling into an amused little smirk that he can't help returning.

“Well. Not all of us like to collect speeding tickets like trophies, dearie.” He says, starting toward the stairs.

She drops her jaw in feigned offense. “I don't _collect_ speeding tickets! I have a very high rate of success when it comes to talking my way out of traffic citations!”

“Oh, I don't doubt that,” he says, beginning to climb the steps. _“...Minx.”_

She giggles and scurries down the hall before he can even make it halfway. When he finally makes it to the bedroom, she's already stripped back down to nothing, kneeling on the bed.

“There you are,” she says, bouncing off the mattress and into him. She runs her fingers through his hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

“I _did_ almost get lost.” He deadpans before she slips her tongue into his mouth, effectively silencing him. He lets out a little moan and pulls her closer, letting her hands wander up his arms and tuck themselves under the lapels of his jacket. She pushes it off of his shoulders and he reluctantly takes his hands off her waist so he can shrug it off. With seasoned dexterity, she unknots his tie and slips it out from under his collar, letting it drop on the floor. She’s not half as graceful however, when she impatiently moves on to his belt. Her fingers clumsily wiggle their way between their bodies while they refuse to sever the bond between their lips.

 _“So insatiable,”_ he teases between breaths.

“Nuh-uh,” she shook her head. “I owe you a spanking, remember?”

“Ah, yes.” He chuckles. “How could I forget?” In truth, he’d only been joking about wanting to be spanked, but he didn’t anticipate Lacey’s enthusiasm for the idea and now, naturally, he’s just curious to see this side of her. He can already feel himself beginning to stiffen as she finally pulls the belt out through its loops and hastily unzips his trousers. She slowly paces backwards, luring him closer to the edge of the bed, and he toes his slacks off along with his shoes once they drop to the ground.

He claims her lips with another kiss, impassioned enough to keep her distracted while he guides her onto her back on the bed. With her laid down, he begins mouthing at her neck. His hands wander around to her bottom, giving it a firm squeeze, and she squeals adorably in response.

_“Cam!”_

His kisses grow sloppier as his lips twist into a smile. “What? Am I misbehaving?” He teases, delighted by the little snort she answers him with. “My, my, Miss French… I suppose you'll have to _punish_ me for my insolence…”

She squirms against him and he lets her roll them over, reversing their positions. _“That's enough.”_ She says, using a stern voice he's never heard from her before as she pins his arms down against the bed.

“Mmm, and what are you going to do to me, Miss French?” He challenges, wiggling his brows.

She huffs out a laugh and dips down to give him a peck on the lips, but pulls back quickly before he can get any more out of her. “For starters… you're gonna get on your hands and knees for me. _Mr Gold._ ”

He flashes a devilish grin. “You'll have to get off of me first _. Miss French.”_

She nibbles her lip. “You promise to behave, _bad boy?”_

He furrows his brows and darts his eyes across the bedroom for a moment. “...Of course not.”

She pinches the skin on his forearm and he hisses loudly. _“What the bloody hell was that for?!”_

“Now you know I'm _serious.”_ She warns, a proud grin on her face.

 _“Mmm…_ I think I like it when you're serious.”

She glances down at his firm cock and snorts. “Yeah, I can see that,” she laughs. She carefully sidles off of him and cups his chin, leaning into his face closely. “Now come on— _get that perfect little ass up in the air for me.”_

He blinks and holds still a moment, finding himself a little startled by how much he’s enjoying being bossed around. “It would be my pleasure, Miss French.”

He sits up and slowly gets into position, savoring the impatience written all over her face and milking the moment for all that it's worth. He can't believe he's doing this, really— crouching on all fours on his bed, his bare ass in the air, waiting to be spanked. He's never given much thought to what it must feel like to be on the receiving end. What it must be like for Lacey. All he knows is that she likes it, and far be it from him to deny her anything. ...For long, anyway.

“Here.” She says, thrusting a pillow in front of him. “A pillow helps.”

“Oh.” He blinks at it for a moment. “I just—?” He tucks it under his arms to lean on, getting more comfortable.

“Mhmm! Just like that!” She says, and _isn't she just the cutest thing,_ he thinks. “You ready?”

He shifts on his knees and elbows a bit before giving half a shrug. “Aye. I think so.” he says and waits patiently.

Lacey clears her throat and he feels her hand begin to caress his arse. “You've been a bad boy, Mr Gold…” she says. Her voice is deeper than usual, but he can still hear the mirth in it that she's trying so hard to conceal. “I think you need a spanking, don't you?”

He wets his lips and smiles. “Yes. Miss French. I've been the absolute worst and you need— _I_ need _you_ to discipline me.”

“Yes, you do.” She agrees. “I just wonder how many spankings you need to learn your lesson…” Her voice trails off and a hesitant silence hangs in the air. She needs encouragement. Being in control can be intimidating at first, after all.

Gold clears his throat. “However many as you see fit.” He says. “Five, ten…” Come to think of it, he never gave her a set number of spankings, instead always just played it by ear. She never seemed to mind, but now that he's in her position, not knowing how many blows to expect seems like a special kind of torture. Perhaps he ought to start. “I ah, trust you to discipline me firmly and fairly, Miss French.”

"Hmm…” She smacks her lips. “I think I'll give you five,” she says. “But you have to count them with me, okay baby?”

“Understood, Miss French.”

“One... for working yourself too hard lately. You need to make more time for yourself. ...And for me.”

“Lacey, I'm truly sorr— _Ach!”_ He's cut off when the flat of her hand strikes his bottom. It doesn't really hurt, but he has to tell himself to relax his muscles once the pleasant, mild sting fades. Tensed muscles do not a good spanking make. _“...One.”_

She clears her throat pointedly, and he doesn't miss the little giggle threatening to bubble out of her. “What was that, Mr Gold?”

 _Oh._ “One, _Miss French._ ” He corrects himself, a little smile shaping his lips. “Thank you.” So _this_ is what it's like.

“Good boy,” she says, rewarding him by lightly rubbing the area where she just spanked him, and Gold feels another startling bit of warmth flare in his chest at her praise. “Now, two for smoking.” She says just before she delivers the next blow. He lets out a hiss as the sting burns his cheek. _“Two_ , Miss French. Thank you.”

“Three for trying to hide it from me.”

“I'm sorry—” He doesn't have time to finish his weak apology before she hits him again. He lets out a groan, feeling his balls tighten in response, and decides that yes— he's definitely enjoying this. _“Three_ , Miss French. Thank you.”

“Four for being a fucking asshole.”

She spanks him harder this time and he cries out surprise. _“Shite!”_

He immediately feels her weight shift away from him on the mattress. “Oh, fuck— Was that too hard?!”

“No, no, you're fine, sweetheart.” He assures. “Lord knows I certainly deserved that one.” He scoffs. “But ah… _Four,_ Miss French. Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” she snorts, shifting back over to him. “And now five for…” she trails off and giggles. “Five for having a cute ass I just wanna spank again!”

He looks over his shoulder at her with a cocked brow. “I think the power is beginning to go to your head, sweetheart.” He warns.

She bites back a smile and raises her hand. He braces himself for the blow, but when it comes, it's nothing more than a gentle pat. He holds still, not sure if he should still be expecting a real one or not, but a good five seconds pass and one never comes.

“...Is that all, Miss French?”

“Hmm…” She eyes his bottom for a moment and then crawls up beside him. “For now.” She says, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Hm,” he steals a kiss from her lips. “Thank you, Mistress.”

“I did good?”

“Excellent.” He says, rolling over to face her and taking her hand, lacing their fingers. “Best spanking I've ever received.”

Lacey tilts her head at him and bites her lip. “You uh… you think so?”

“Oh yes. In fact, I might start acting out now just so I can receive another,” he winks.

She laughs. “Well, now you know why _I'm_ always misbehaving.”

“But did _you_ enjoy yourself?” He asks, twining and untwining their fingers.

“It was fun,” she grins, “but I think I like it better when _you_ uh... do the disciplining.”

Gold scoffs. “I suppose that should hardly come as a surprise...” He leans into her ear and whispers, _“For such a naughty little thing like you.”_

Lacey nibbles her lip, biting back a smile. “What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment.”

He rolls her onto her back and kisses her again. He allows himself to indulge this time, lingering and enjoying the feel of her lips on his. He has to say it again. He can't _not_ say it. _“God,_ I love you.”

She combs her fingers through his hair and looks up at him with a smile. “I love you too.” He gives her another kiss, beginning a trail of them down her neck that makes her giggle and squirm. “What are you doing?”

He stops at the valley of her breasts and looks up at her. “I think I might make love to you,” he says with a shrug. “If that's alright.”

“Well… I guess.” She snorts, just about squealing when his mouth reaches her waist. He peppers her sides with featherlight kisses that tickle her wonderfully, and the muscles in her abdomen twitch and squirm under his touch.

“Listen to you,” he says over her laughter. _“Beautiful.”_

“You don't—” she manages between breaths, “It's not… annoying?”

He stops kissing and looks up at her again. “Now, whoever put _that_ idea in your head?”

“...Nobody.”

“Clearly.” He says, continuing to work his way down to her pussy. “But no, no… You make—” he presses a firm kiss to her hood, “the most perfect sounds, sweetheart.” He flicks his tongue against her once and she squeals again with delight. “See? _Perfect._ I wonder what other sounds you can make, hm?”

Lacey narrows her eyes at him. “I think you already know _all_ the sounds I make.”

“Perhaps. But I intend to enjoy them all anew tonight.”

“God, you're the worst.” She groans. “No wonder you just choose to be an asshole instead.”

“Well, just so long as you don't go around soiling my reputation as an insufferable bastard, we should be fine.”

“Your secret's safe with— _oh!”_ She immediately falls silent as he buries his head between her legs. He inhales her scent and makes a point of tickling her with the bit of stubble that has grown on his face since he shaved this morning. Then he dives in, dragging his tongue along her slit slowly and deliberately. The length of his hair clings to her dewy thighs as he laps and gently sucks at her folds, listening for all of her little gasp and moans. As he flicks the tip of his tongue against her clit, her shoulders bounce up off of the mattress. _“Oh fuck,_ Cameron!”

He feels her hand clutch at his hair and the way she angles her hips into his face, yearning for more friction. He pulls away slightly to draw a quick breath and plunges back into her cunt with fervor, drawing a perfect little whimper from her.

“Oh my _God—”_ Her back arches into him for a moment, and she rocks her hips desperately, practically smothering him. He doesn’t dare pull back though— not when she’s so close. He digs his fingers into the flesh of her thighs and buries himself deeper, quickening the tempo of his tongue against her sensitive bud until she cries out and collapses back onto the bed, panting. He resurfaces, gasping for breath and wiping the sweat and come from his face.

 _“Fuck,_ you're good at that.” She laughs.

He combs his hair back with his fingers and licks his lips. “And _you’re_ delicious.”

She eyes him for a moment with a dopey smile on her face and beckons him with the crook of her finger. After pressing one last kiss between her thighs, he climbs back up her sweat-sticky body to claim her mouth again.

She opens wide for him, a small but deep laugh escaping her as he strokes his tongue over her palette. The sound makes his mouth smile against hers, turning the kiss into a clumsy clash of lips and teeth for an instant. She seizes control of the kiss when she begins raking her teeth over his tongue, gently tugging it as he pulls back to draw a breath. He moans into her mouth at the sensation, letting her repeat it a few times before returning the favor himself. He’s stroking her tongue with his own when she begins rolling them over and onto his back, and he follows her needily when she starts pulling away from him.

“Wait, wait. Hold on,” she says.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, I just— I’m gonna suck your dick.” She says, reaching her arms up to retie the loose bun her chestnut hair is drawn up in. Her bare breasts jiggle slightly with each jerking movement of her arms, and before Gold can object, she's already crawling over the bed and getting into position.

“You don't have to—”

“Nuh-uh.” Lacey cuts him off. “Whatever I want, and nothing I don't.” She says, taking him in hand and beginning to stroke him slowly.

Gold throws his head back against the pillows. “Of course.” He watches as she lowers her herself over him, dragging her tongue along his length. She smiles as he shivers from her touch, then stops. He lifts his head back up to look at her.

“You know, I um, really like it when you talk dirty to me.” She says. “It makes me so wet. _...Just saying.”_

He nods, and she continues laving at him with her tongue. He can't manage any words at first, enraptured by the way she's using her tongue and the way it makes him feel. He lets out a gasp as she takes his tip into her mouth, snapping him out of his trance. _I like it when you talk dirty to me._ “That's it, sweetheart,” he whispers. “You take my cock into that pretty little mouth for me.”

She gives a little moan and swirls her tongue around the tip, drawing a pleasured hiss from him. She repeats the motion, starting slowly and getting a little faster with each pass. “Oh, Lace...” He pants. “Where did you ever learn... to give it like this? Hm? Such a dirty little—” He sucks in a breath and throws his head back again as she takes him in deeper. “Oh, that's it, sweetheart. Good girl… use that filthy mouth.”

He reaches down to comb a loose lock of hair out of her face, but she uses her free hand to hold his in place over her head. She takes him in further, gently sucking her way back up to his tip before going back down and giving his hand a slight squeeze. He swallows hard, realizing she's inviting him to set the pace. He tentatively begins guiding her up and down his shaft, listening for any sounds of protest. Instead, there’s only the rhythmic slipping and smacking of her lips on his flesh— so he starts rolling his hips into her slightly, pushing and pulling her more firmly. She expresses her consent with a little, _“Mhmm.”_

“You like that?” He asks, and she moans around him in response. “Mm… of course you do… Of course my Lacey likes a good head-fucking… such a wanton little thing… always so eager to please… you just love having my cock in your mouth, don't you?” She quickens her pace so doesn't have to, working into a dizzying rhythm with her tongue, and the beginning of his orgasm takes root. _“Oh, that’s it—”_ He lets go of her in favor of clutching the sheets, and the sight of her taking him in again and again is too much. He closes his eyes and as his release nears, all he can manage are heaving breaths. It would be nothing to finish into her mouth right then, but that's not what he wants. “Sweetheart, stop. Stop, stop—”

She looks up at him and releases him with a slick, wet _pop._ She takes a few seconds to catch her breath and licks her lips. “It’s okay, you know I don’t—”

“No, no.” He whispers. “Not like this. Not tonight. _Please.”_

She looks disappointed for an instant, but then she shrugs and crawls back up to him. “Okay.”

“Not that I wasn’t enjoying— I just…” he trails off and sighs. “Lacey—” he says, taking her hand and giving it a little squeeze. “I just love you so much.”

She smiles and dips down to give him a peck on the lips. “I love you too.”

“And I just want to… give myself to you... properly.”

She smiles at that. “Alright, alright…” she sighs. _“Fine._ Let's do what _you_ wanna do,” she says with a playful roll of her eyes. She pecks him on the lips again and smiles. _“Missionary man.”_

He huffs out a little laugh and pulls her back in, kissing her desperately— and if he could just swallow her whole, devour her light, he would. He nips and tugs at her lips, carefully repositioning her onto her back and tangling their legs. She opens herself eagerly to him, gripping his shoulders tightly. They part their lips to exchange looks and consenting nods, and he lines himself up at her entrance.

“You know I'm just messing with you, right?” She says. “I um… like this too. It's… nice.” She admits.

“By now, I like to think that I understand your sense of humor, sweetheart.” He deadpans, his voice still a little breathless from her earlier efforts.

“Alright, well. Just making sure.” She says. “Go on—” she darts a pointed glance at his cock and smiles. “Make love to me and stuff.”

He scoffs and pushes inside of her before she can sneak in another wisecrack.

Lacey pulls him tightly against her, sucking in a quivering breath and closing her eyes as he fills her. He gives her a kiss on the lips and feels his skin tingle when she clutches at his hair, scraping her fingernails against his scalp. Their tongues slip under and over each other as they chart each other’s mouths and slowly begin to roll their hips together.

“Christ. You weren't kidding,” Gold says, huffing out a little laugh. “Lacey, you're _so_ wet.”

She gives a snort. “Shut up!”

“What? I'm no’ taking the piss! ...It's remarkable, really.”

“Any time you say you're _not_ taking the piss, you totally are.” She retorts.

“No, no— I'm just… impressed. And perhaps a wee bit honored.”

Lacey narrows her eyes at him for a moment before pulling him down for another kiss.

He reaches down to caress her thighs, squeezing at the soft flesh and sliding his hand around the curve of her bottom. When he reaches between her legs, he can feel the wet, sticky evidence of her arousal all over her pussy and down her inner thighs. “Just feel that,” he hums, remembering her not-so-subtle request from earlier and adjusting the tone of his voice accordingly. “How dripping wet you are. Tell me— do you get this wet for just anybody? Or is it just for me?”

She moans and shakes her head. “Just for you, baby.”

“That's right... Because you know I'll take care of you and your needy little cunt, don't you, sweetheart?” Lacey answers him with a whimper and a slight adjustment of her hips that brings her gasping for breath. “God, I love you, Lacey. I’m gonna take such good care of you…” He says, closing his mouth over hers again.

Lacey's movements start to grow more desperate, and Gold parts from her lips in favor of mouthing at her neck. She draws a sharp breath, clutching him more tightly against her, and he stretches over to take her earlobe between his lips. It tickles her and makes her whimper and squirm in response.

“You're so incredible...” he whispers breathily against her neck. “Do you know that? How perfect you are? How pretty you sound when I fuck you?”

Her fingernails suddenly dig into his back and he winces, his hips jerking into her out of rhythm.

 _“Oh, holy shit!”_ She gasps, drawing her knees up and tightening her grip on him. It hurts beautifully— the pain of it a reflection of the pleasure he’s giving her. He groans and pushes further into her, thrilled when her fingers sink in and the searing sensation in his back deepens. _“Oh, Cam—”_

“Yes, yes, yes.” He whispers. “That's it. Mark me, sweetheart. I'm all yours…”

She pulls away just enough to give him a hesitant look— a skeptical, _“are you sure?”_ written on her face.

He nods and sloppily presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You know I sweat for you, now let me _bleed_ for you.”

“Oh, _fuck,”_ she huffs with a little laugh. “Fuck that's hot.” She starts adjusts her grip on him, settling her hands lower on his back. Slowly, she drags her fingertips up his back, clawing into his skin. He groans and the kiss he was planting on her neck turns into an involuntarily bite as he arches into her touch.

“Oh, God!” She gasps, her hips rising up to meet his. He winces again as she sinks her nails into his shoulders once more. He’s reduced to panting against her neck as he bears the pain and she tightens around him. She grinds against him desperately, using her grip on him to pull herself up off the pillows and bury her face in his shoulder.

“I love you,” she nearly sobs, “Oh _fuck,_ I love you, Cam!”

He turns his head to press a kiss to her temple. “I love you, Lacey.” He pants. “Now come on— come for me, sweetheart. I've got you.” He reaches a hand down where their bodies are joined, pressing his fingers against her dark, swollen bud. She gasps and wraps her arms around him, pulling him closer. His body trembling, he rubs his fingers over her clit and gives several deep thrusts before toppling over the edge with a growl. She cries out as he fills her, her legs clamping down and locking around him for a moment. He manages to pump into her a few more times as she comes down, making her writhe against him before collapsing back down on the bed with a heaving sigh.

He drops on top of her limply and the room falls silent, save for their gasping breaths. Soon he feels her carding her fingers through the sweat-dampened hair at the nape of his neck. She gives a contented sigh and gently drags her fingernails against his scalp before poking her head up to give him a kiss on the cheek. He stirs at that, mustering what little strength he has left to pick himself up and peck her on the lips. And the cheek. And the nose. He charts light kisses all over her face and neck— _dozens of them—_ until at last a precious giggle bubbles out of her.

 _“Ah,_ there we go,” he chuckles.

She smiles dopily at him and sits up a little to get a look at his back. She traces a finger over the red markings and wets her lips. “So, that was awesome.”

He tucks a loose lock of hair behind her ear presses another firm kiss to her cheek. “I'm glad.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Hm.” He gives half a shrug. “A little.”

“I didn’t break skin or anything. And it looks like some of it’s already fading away.” She says, sounding a little disappointed. But then she bites back a smile. “...Did you _like_ it?”

“Aye.” He takes her hand and presses a kiss to it. “I did.”

Lacey snorts. “You _kinky_ fucker!”

“Oh, come on, now. You know I prefer the term _kinky bastard.”_

She kisses their still-entwined hands and lies down beside him. He reaches out and combs his fingers through her hair, warmed when he notices her blue eyes fixed on his face.

“...I do.” She says, wrinkling her nose a little at the gentle way he's touching her. “I love you.”

 _“I heard.”_ He says with a smug little grin.

She rolls her eyes. “You're such a fucking asshole.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah! I'm trying to be serious here!” She laughs.

“Well, keep at it. They say one can accomplish _anything_ if they set their mind to it.” He quips, booping her on the nose.

Lacey gives him a smack on the arse, but in their position she can't quite reach the right spot. “You better watch it, Mr Gold.” She warns.

He gives a little moan and wiggles his brows. “Or else what?”

She narrows her eyes at him and he cracks a smile.

“M’sorry.” He says, taking her hand again. “I love you too. So much.”

She bites down on her cheek and studies his face for a moment. “How— how did you _know?”_ She asks. “When did you realize you…” She trails off and looks away.

Gold clears his throat. “Well, dearie, if you _must_ know—” he begins, and she’s already smiling. He pauses and rolls over to the nightstand, but stops once his hand grasps the knob on the drawer. After a beat, he shakes his head and rolls back over to her. “I ah, would miss you.” He says.

Lacey frowns, as if she was expecting more. “That's it?”

“No, no… see—” He sits up and invites her to rest her head on his chest. “I realized that I was utterly consumed with you. There wasn't a thought that crossed my mind that I couldn't find some way to make about you. Something would happen at work, and I'd think, ‘ _Oh I'll have to tell Lacey about this. I bet she'd find it funny.’_ I'd be preparing my breakfast in the morning, and think, _'I hope Lacey had a good breakfast. Poor thing shoveled down dinner last night like it was her first meal in days.’_ I'd get out of the shower, and wonder what you thought of my cologne— _does she like it? Do I wear too much? Should I switch to something else?_ I'd get dressed and try to pick a tie I thought you might like, even though we'd no plans that night. I'd smile to myself while a client was havering on about how their case was taking too long or God knows what, the whole time just thinking about how much I'd love for you to waltz in and tell them to shove it up their arse. I'd go to bed at night and toss and turn, wondering where you were and who you were with, instead of there, with me.”

Lacey presses her lips into a thin line for a moment, and he worries that he may have said too much. But she just squirms a little closer to him and clears her throat. “I-uh, I love your cologne.” She tells him. He knits his brows and tilts his head, not quite sure what he was expecting _._ “Also, I eat like a pig _all_ the time. You’ll just have to get used to it.” She chuckles and the heavy feeling in his gut lifts away. “And I don't have a favorite tie, but I _hate it_ when you wear that stupid fuckin’ checkered shirt.”

He gasps, dropping his jaw and drawing a hand over his heart. “It’s not _checkered!_ It’s _gingham!”_

“It’s a bad shirt, Cam. I'm not even sorry.”

“Well, well, well... At last, the truth comes out!”

Lacey erupts into a fit of giggles and buries her face in his chest. He just watches, listening to the musical sound of her laughter until she collects herself.

“You know, I always _thought_ you were particularly pushy about getting me naked every time I wore it. Here I was, beginning to think it was my lucky shirt!”

 _“God, no!”_ Lacey groans. “Besides—” She shifts a little to face him better and gives him a peck on the lips. “You don't need a lucky shirt.” She says, cupping his cheek and pulling him in for a real kiss. She stops short of it though, and smiles. “You know what you do to me.” The kiss that follows isn’t the voracious one he’s come to expect from her. She takes her time with it, slowly dipping her tongue into his mouth and tasting him. It’s as if she intends to commit every detail to memory. She finally parts from him with an uncharacteristically timid expression, glancing away and nibbling her lip.

“I um… I just kind of realized that I was always the happiest around you? You uh, make me smile and laugh until my cheeks hurt and I have a headache.”

Gold tries to scowl, but the smile on his face is much too stubborn for that. _“Sounds awful.”_ He deadpans.

“No, I love it.” She says, snuggling against him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And I know you can do it.” She says. “I know you can quit.”

Gold only smacks his lips and sighs, staring up at the ceiling.

“A few minutes ago. You were reaching for the drawer to get a cigarette, weren’t you?”

“Aye.”

“But you changed your mind.”

“Well, I haven't actually got any in there anymore. Just… force of habit, I guess.”

“Still. You’re gonna quit. And you're gonna be the best grandpa to that kid. Because you care. And when you care about something, you always find a way.”

He cards a hand through his hair and shifts over to look at her. A hopeful speech is the last thing he’s come to expect from her. _“...Do_ we?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I don't mean like, in general. I'm talking about _you._ I _know_ you, and you'll uh... You'll figure it out. Push comes to shove, you'll do what you gotta do.” She says, giving him a pat on the chest.

He returns a weak smile and rests his hand on the small of her waist, rubbing his thumb to and fro over her skin. “That ah— that means a lot to me, Lacey. Thank you.”

“Well, you know,” she trails off with a yawn and nestles up to him again, closing her eyes. He watches while she drifts off to sleep, and he can’t help thinking how beautiful she is. Once he’s convinced she’s out cold, he sneaks out of bed and puts his boxers on. The floorboards creak as he crosses the room, and freezes.

“Hey.” Lacey mumbles from the bed. “Where’ya going?”

“Just… using the bathroom.” He whispers. “You should go back to sleep, sweetheart. It's late.”

“Mmkay.”

He watches her roll over and go back to sleep before slowly opening the drawer of his nightstand and fishing out his lighter. He closes it gently, takes the ashtray, and tip-toes out of the room. He steps into the guest bathroom and takes a deep breath before dropping the paraphernalia into the wastebin and doing his business. Then he continues down the hall, carrying the bin with him. There's another ashtray in the library. An expired pack of cigarettes he'd genuinely forgotten about in his desk. Downstairs, there's another ashtray in the living room. There’s two more lighters in the kitchen junk drawer, along with a few stray cigarettes he’s happy to throw away because they're not even his brand and he has no idea where they came from. Throws out an old, exploded ballpoint pen while he's at it. He looks into the basket at the collection of ashtrays, cigarettes and lighters with disgust and moves on to the bathroom. He pulls open the drawer where he keeps the assortment of over the counter medicine and the carton of cigarettes he's been hiding. He looks at it hesitantly, already hearing the devil in his head.

_Just one. One more smoke. No one has to know._

“Oh, for Christ's sake,” he mutters under his breath, clenching his fist around the carton and hurling it into the wastebin. He dumps everything into the garbage can in the garage and returns upstairs, turning the lights out and slipping back into bed with the woman he loves.


End file.
